Bleeding Heart

The intercom sounded. She stretched to reach the handset and was surprised to find out that it was a delivery from the florist. She buzzed the youth through the apartment building's main doors and puzzled over who might be sending her flowers, while she slowly made her way to her own apartment's front door.

She recognised the young woman as her regular deliverer of freshly cooked pizzas. "You do flowers too?", she asked as she took the bouquet from her.

"Just today, it's the florist's busiest day. This is the biggest bouquet I got in my van. You must be sooo special to this guy. If you don't want him, pass him on to me", she grinned as Sayuri signed for the delivery. "You're lucky. You know, my boyfriend sent me a teeny-tiny posy of violets, so I think I'm gonna be out looking for a man to shower me with roses tonight. Have a cosy evening!" She winked as she set off back down the stairs.

Sayuri shut the door and leaned against it as she pulled the card out of the impressively huge and beautifully presented armful of flowers. "Even dust amassed will grow into a mountain", it said. She groaned as she realised what that meant, and decided to hide them in her bedroom to avoid an awkward scene with her son. He came back out of the bathroom, sparkling clean but still with unbrushed hair, just a few seconds too early.

He stared at the flowers, his blue eyes so wide and clear that she could see the golden canna lilies reflected in them. "Wow, what a lot of flowers. Are they for Valentine's day?"

"Yes they are, sweetheart."

"Who sent them, Mommy?"

"I don't know. The card doesn't say."

Ken began to bounce around in excitement. "They must be from Daddy! He's coming back!"

"No! Ken, they're not. I don't know who they're from but it's not your father. He's gone, forever, darling."

"No he's not! He sent flowers. He will come back!"

Ken raced into the main room screaming for his father's return, and Sayuri practically threw the flowers on the floor before following him. As she tried to calm and comfort him, she silently cursed Kentaro for his lack of thought. Dead men should stick to contacting psychic mediums, not Interflora.

When Ken was calmer, and brushed and dressed and preoccupied with his toys, she picked up the phone and dialled an international cell phone number. "I trust you've been keeping Valentine's evening free, just for me, Kozaburou?"

"I have no plans for the evening. Are you propositioning me?"

Sayuri replied coldly. "As if I would. But I received a huge bouquet of flowers with a cryptic message, just the sort of thing you love. And my son needs to see that they're not from a certain person who shouldn't in any condition to send anything to anyone. Any chance you can be here tonight for dinner? My time zone, obviously."

"I'm 4 hours east of you right now. Let me check on flights and call you back."

She watched Ken play while she waited. Kozaburou phoned back quickly, letting her know what time his flight would arrive and that he'd bring the wine. She ordered a sophisticated meal for home delivery from the local french restaurant, picked up the flowers and divided them between her two largest vases as best she could, and then zipped her son into his quilted jacket and took him to the park. They walked and fed the ducks and watched the squirrels until she was exhausted, and then she sat on a bench to watch him entertain himself in the playground. Ken had always been an advanced child and she was happy that he was able to play on the swings without needing to be pushed, and clamber over the huge jungle gym with confidence. She massaged her arms and legs while never taking her eyes off him, trying not to think about the appointment she faced with a neuromuscular specialist in a few days time. Holding a masters degree in biotechnology and with her personal interest in medicine, she already knew what the growing weakness in her hands and feet might mean and, far from home and with no family to help her care for her son, she feared for his future just as much as her own.

Eventually Ken was tired too, and they walked slowly back to the apartment, stopping on the way for a late pizza lunch and a very unseasonal ice-cream. Back inside and warm again, they got Ken's paints out and passed another hour or so making squelchy hearts and butterflies and hand-prints and footprints and painting each other to look like monsters, and then they had a shower followed by a leisurely bath. Half an hour after they got out, and half an hour past Ken's usual bedtime, when he was dressed smartly and she was looking better than pretty, Kozaburou arrived in a taxi with two bottles of quality red wine and a nicely wrapped present for Ken.

Sayuri greeted him at the front door with a polite sounding hello and an unfriendly smile; behind her Ken bounded excitedly out of the living room to meet the visitor. Kozaburou smiled pleasantly back at them both, ruffling Ken's hair as he ignored the boy's obvious disappointment, then kissed Sayuri's cheek as he gave her the wine. She glowered at him while he hung up his coat and then led him through to the living area where she put the wine on the table and instructed him to open it, while she vanished into the kitchen to take the food out of its foil packaging and make it presentable.

Kozaburou opened the first bottle of wine and then, awkwardly, turned his attention to Ken. Kneeling down and smiling, he asked "So, Ken, do you remember me?"

Ken pouted. "I didn't want you. I wanted Daddy."

Kozaburou wasn't accustomed to small children and he couldn't help but flinch at the boy's directness. "Oh. Well. I'm very sorry but he can't be here. Did your mother like the flowers I sent?"

"You didn't send them."

"Yes I did, Ken. Anyway, I brought you a present. Would you like to open it?"

"No! I want my Daddy!" Ken screamed and ran into the kitchen. Kozaburou listened uncomfortably to the boy's cries and Sayuri's attempts to calm him. It had been almost a year since Kentaro had faked his death in a plane crash at sea. After the funeral Sayuri had found work in a branch of the ISO outside Utoland. Kozaburou had seen the boy three times since then and each time he seemed more determined to believe that his father was still alive.

Eventually Sayuri and Ken emerged from the kitchen. Ken climbed up onto the sofa and curled up as tightly as he possibly could at the furthest end, burying his face in a cushion. Sayuri stroked his arm for a while, trying to encourage him to open the present, but Ken didn't move and after a few minutes Sayuri sighed and covered him with a blanket. "Well, it's a good job he's asleep, he wouldn't have liked dinner anyway. Let's eat before it gets too cold. I shall want you to help me move him later though."

"Why is he so determined..."

"Kozaburou, this isn't the time. He's not very deeply asleep yet, I wouldn't want him to wake up and hear anything he shouldn't. After the starter you can help me move him into his room, then I will tell you all about it. I believe it is very much in your power to help, and I will be extremely disappointed if you do not."

They had asparagus spears and salmon mousse with hollandaise sauce. Sayuri ate slowly, in silence, determinedly not looking at him, and Kozaburou felt that he had to say something to lighten the mood. "Did you know, that asparagus is considered an aphrodisiac in some cultures?"

"I did not, no. I assure you I would not have ordered it if I did." Sayuri stabbed angrily at her plate with her fork, and it screeched against the glaze in protest. Kozaburou automatically stared at her hand. He watched her fingers lose their grip on the fork's handle and flop momentarily before she clenched her hand into a loose fist in an unnatural, forced motion that made his stomach lurch. His eyes flickered up to her face just as she began to laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kozaburou, you've come such a long way at such short notice and I've done nothing but be rude. I'm just rather tense about the flowers, but I'm sure you can give me an explanation. Please, forgive me?"

"Yes. Yes, of course I do."

"I think Ken's properly asleep now." There were faint kiddie snores coming from the sofa. "Will you help me move him?"

With Sayuri's direction, Kozaburou lifted Ken and carried him gently to his bed. He politely waited outside the door as she did what she could to Ken's clothing to allow him to sleep comfortably, and then followed her back to the dining table. She carried the remains of their starters away to the kitchen, and began to arrange their main courses. Kozaburou watched her movements, noticing that her walk was slow and she was dragging her feet a little, and that the plates wobbled precariously in her hands as though she was unable to grip them properly. Now that he was looking closely, he saw that she had lost a lot of weight too - under the perfect make-up and the fluid fabric of her clothes she looked gaunt. Making the excuse of being a good guest, he insisted on carrying the main courses back to the dining table for her.

As soon as Sayuri was sitting again, she asked brightly, "So, dear old friend of my dead husband, please explain the flowers?"

"I assure you, they are as much of a surprise to me as they are to you. I am glad that you didn't assume they were from a secret admirer though."

"You should be glad that I bothered telling you about them at all instead of throwing them out of the window. How does he know where we live?"

"Are you in the phone book, Sayuri, or registered to vote, or to pay tax? You haven't changed your name. Even as incommunicado as he should be in Huntwall, I think it would be an easy matter for him to track you down."

"It was part of the deal that he, and you, and everyone else to do with this secret project of yours would leave Ken and I alone! What does he think he's doing? What kind of danger is he putting us in? Does he even care about what this is doing to Ken?"

"I am truly sorry, Sayuri. We had two communication routes which were compromised, and there are others but I assume he wanted to send a message with more urgency than our other routes would allow. Not that I'm trying to justify it, of course."

"This is not the first time. There's a good reason we've moved house three times in nine months."

"What do you mean?"

"He sent birthday and Christmas presents to Ken. Oh, unlabelled of course, but I could see they were from him and, worse, so could Ken. One was sent to the lab's crèche and the other to his kindergarten, and both places gave him the presents without checking with me first. That's why he was so convinced that the flowers were from his father. If I hadn't thought they might be some kind of message I would have destroyed them before he got a chance to see them."

"I didn't know that. It was Kentaro's idea, not mine, to fake his death when he realised how risky the mission would be. He did that in order to protect both of you. It seems strange that he would compromise that now."

"Could it have been anyone else?"

"I will have that looked into with some urgency."

"Shit, this is why I left Utoland in the first place. I thought it would make me harder to find."

"Sayuri, would you answer a question for me now please?"

"That depends on what it is."

"I see. Very well, did you ever work for Doctor Akushin Warugi?"

"Only on one project, for four months or so. I left when I realised that his work had no possible ethical purpose. Why do you ask?"

"He and a number of his technicians are suffering ill effects from a series of experiments which have caused them neurological and tissue damage. He is the most badly affected, I am told he has only weeks to live."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"It's very unfortunate. As yet, we don't know which series of experiments triggered their health problems. He did have a knack of getting his technicians to stay with him for a long time, in fact, I think you're the only one he ever lost after just one project. So, as yet the medical researchers haven't managed to work out where to start looking for a cure."

"He was working on neurotoxins and cellular regeneration inhibitors during the short period I was with him. Nobody needed that knowledge. He told me it one of its purposes was to aid research into possible treatments for incurable diseases, and it took me a while to realise that couldn't possibly be true. The lab animals suffered terribly."

"He probably knows how they felt, now. His nervous system is in an increasing state of failure, he can't swallow so he has to be constantly intubated, his muscles and bones are wasted and he is completely paralysed except for some of his facial muscles. He lost the ability to speak some months ago. His respiratory system will apparently be the next thing to go, and he has stated that he does not want to be revived."

"Kozaburou, why are you telling me this?"

"Two of his technicians came to work for me after they finished working with him, after he first became ill. I watched their symptoms develop. First a weakness in their hands and feet, which progressed to their arms and legs as they began to have difficulty swallowing. One of them has now lost the ability to speak, and both are wheelchair bound. As yet, we have no cure for any of his technicians, all we can do is provide them with support and painkillers. They have, I'm told, anywhere between six months and three years to live."

Sayuri stared down at her plate. Her face and voice betrayed no emotion. "What you've described sounds like the symptoms of motor neurone disease combined with some form of dystrophy."

"It does look very similar indeed. If we were able to find out which set of experiments caused it, by, say, having access to someone who only worked with him for a short time but is also showing early symptoms of the ailment, then the we might be able to find a cure."

"You're so subtle, Kozaburou."

"Then tell me I'm wrong."

"No. You're absolutely right, and so much more observant than I ever imagined. I already have an appointment booked with a specialist next week. You're telling me that my condition may be due to an industrial accident rather than just random bad luck - what difference does that make, except that now I have someone to sue? And, you have found a way to make my impending paralysis and death useful. How convenient, that my suffering won't have been in vain if you manage to develop a cure from it. And, goodness me, perhaps that cure might even transpire in time to save me. Am I expected to come back to Utoland to be a brave little martyr with you right now, or do I get a couple of weeks to sort things out first?"

"I can understand why you're angry..."

"No you don't! You haven't a clue! Your entire relationship with people is based on how much use they can be to you. That's why you and Kentaro got along so well, I'm sure. See what I am to both of you now, a method of emergency communication. And my son, he just exists to remember and adore his daddy. Kentaro tried to squirm out of every last bit of fatherly responsibility while he was still here, now that he's gone he won't let Ken forget him. And now you want me to be your research subject - you don't even have a biomedical background, how am I supposed to believe that you can find any kind of cure?"

"I'm not working on that project. It belongs entirely to Dr Ihaku, and I have the greatest faith in her abilities. My only connection to the project is a degree of friendship with some of her patients. Her work interests me, but it's hardly my speciality."

Sayuri gasped in spectacular disbelief. "Really? You don't get the glory?"

"Really, I wouldn't even get a mention as a contributor. I can see that you have an exceptionally low opinion of me, and I do wonder if I really deserve it."

Sayuri rolled her eyes and decided that she was tired of shouting. "Tell me what the secret message said."

"How will that help?"

"I want to know. I deserve to know."

"It says that things are going smoothly and he's optimistic, he's found someone who will be of help to him and he's planning something, sabotage maybe. We never got as far as working out an alphabet or anything specific for this method of communication."

"And you still say you didn't plan this in advance."

"I give you my word, it was my understanding that he would not attempt to make any kind of contact with you or Ken."

"How do you get that message from these flowers?"

Kozaburou sighed. "The yellow canna lilies mean the future looks steady and cheerful, the blue geraniums relate to his new friend, and the purple statice says he has some mischief in mind."

"What about the other flowers?"

"They're just filler. Some of them would have meanings if they were different colours, for example if the gypsophilia were white instead of pink that would mean something, or if the chrysanthemums were yellow or purple instead of white and red."

Sayuri pointed at the dicentra in the bouquet and asked quietly, "So those are not part of the message?"

"No, not at all. Regardless of the colour."

"Oh. Well. That's nice to know." Sayuri pushed her plate away, and made a pillow for her head with her arms on the table. "They are my favourite flower. I wouldn't expect you to remember but my wedding bouquet was almost entirely made up of pink dicentra spectabilis. I even chose the date so they'd be in season."

Nambu frowned as he tried to remember. "Ah, you had all those pink hearts on your wedding dress, and I was very impressed that you had heart shaped flowers to match."

"No doubt those few flowers are meant as his sweetener for using me as his messenger."

"Well, it is Valentines' day, perhaps he included them as a sign of affection?"

"He fell out of love with me. No, we fell out of love with each other. He thought I wouldn't change, and I expected that he would. We both had unreal expectations, it's just a shame for Ken that it didn't work out, that we weren't both more balanced personalities. Of course, most couples in that situation would have just divorced instead of the husband actually faking his death..."

"I've know him longer than you have, I've seen him involved with a few women before you. He still loves the idea of you. Not as a mother, I know he hated having to share your attention, but as the woman he met and fell in love with. He remembers you as beautiful, and intelligent, and witty, and strong willed and totally infatuated with him, just as he remembers Ken as a beautiful, happy, bouncy baby who never cried and grew into a toddler who managed to do everything he ever tried perfectly at the first attempt."

"But that's not real."

"No. But it's what he needs. He's far from home, living a dangerous life, and he'll probably never get the opportunity to return, and picturing both of you as his perfect family gives him a focus, something that he's working to protect. I think those flowers are for you, not to fool you or flatter you, just to show he remembers."

"Even if he doesn't want to remember the real me."

"I'm sorry but yes."

"No, don't be, I think perhaps you're right... and in a strange sort of way it makes me feel better about the whole thing. But I still don't want him contacting me, or Ken, ever again."

"I will see to that."

Sayuri stared at her plate for a while. The food had gone cold, and the sauce had congealed into a gelatinous goo with an unappetising skin on top. "This isn't going to microwave well."

"I don't know. I live on noodles and take-outs. I never had a take-out that wasn't better after it was microwaved."

"You've been single too long. If I had a friend I wasn't too fond of, I'd try to set the two of you up"

"Thank you for that thought, Sayuri. You're too kind."

"I ordered an apple tart for dessert. I've had it before, it is the most fantastic apple tart you will ever taste. And there's fresh cream in the fridge door. Would you mind getting it?"

"Of course not." Kozaburou went to the kitchen and sliced a quarter of the tart for each of them, and doused each plateful liberally with double cream. "I assume that you haven't poisoned it?"

"Like a woman scorned? You didn't really steal my husband from me, and I'm not ready to die yet. Not that this will do much for our arteries either, of course."

He put the plates on the table, having already cut out a spoonful for her, and sat down. Clinking his spoon against hers, he nodded in salute. "Banzai. I love soggy pastry."

She smirked as she lifted the spoon. "And you call yourself a sophisticate. You do have a hotel booked, don't you?"

"Yes, I'm in the Hyatt at the airport. I'd have preferred somewhere closer, but all those one-day-per-year romantics have no respect for normal people's practical requirements."

"When will you expect us back in Utoland?"

"I'll contact you when I know. It'll be soon, though. The sooner the better, I think."

They finished their dessert cheerfully and parted on terms that were as good as could be expected, under the circumstances. Within two weeks, Sayuri and Ken were back in Utoland. Sayuri went for regular visits to Dr Ihaku's clinic, and Ken acquired a new nanny.

Sayuri never did receive flowers from Kentaro again. But there was no cure for Sayuri either, and as she became less and less mobile, she was able to play less and less of an active role in Ken's life and could only watch helplessly as his interest transferred itself to his father's friend, Kozaburou.

Years after she died, Ken remembered her kindness, her gentleness, and how small she had become, tiny in her big wheelchair and almost invisible in her hospital bed. And he remembered mysterious presents and a Valentine's bouquet, and a few other strange things that had happened over the years that he'd never told her about, and never gave up hope that he still had a spare parent, somewhere, who loved him every bit as much as his mother had.